The Once and Future Prat
by PaladinHem
Summary: Merlin and Arthur's paths cross once again in the 21st century. ONE-SHOT! Also some Merthur if you look really really closely.


Oh god, I still can't even with the last Merlin episode, and it's been almost a month .-.

I wrote this pretty much the day after the series ended, and it's been a work in progress ever since.

Thanks to Joylix for betaing this lol, and also shoutout to Nicole for helping me write the sticky parts c: Also, if you don't mind, leave a review letting me know how I did. This is my first fic, and I'm not the best writer, so constructive criticism is always appreciated!

Well, I guess that's all I have to say. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

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Merlin strolls down an English street on a foggy day in the mid-21st century. His face is grim and melancholy, haunted by the memories of his old life ages ago. No matter how many centuries pass, he just can't escape the worst day he's ever had to live through. Every single day, he relives that wretched day in his mind, remembering every detail as if it had only just passed: how tightly he held Arthur in his arms as his life slipped away from him, how the wind blew through his face as Kilgharrah flew him and Arthur's body to the Lake of Avalon, and how blurred with hot tears his vision was as he set his best friend's body into a boat and watched it float across the eerily calm lake.

The long years and painful memories are starting to take a toll on him. Merlin is beyond tired, as one might expect him to be after thousands of years. He doesn't even bother to keep his young appearance anymore, opting instead for the face of his old identity, Dragoon the Great. A face that is old and jaded, conveying his mood well. It is complete with a long white beard that is apparently the mark of the sorcerer in these current times. Those that see him these days judge him to be a senile hermit, but he doesn't care. All he desires is to find inner peace.

But he puts his desire aside for duty as he turns his head and glances at that very same lake to watch out for the return of his king and friend, as he had done every morning for the past few thousand years.

He turns away from the serene lake and continues walking-straight into the body of a man much younger and healthy-looking than himself. The man's broad shoulders collide with Merlin's elderly, fragile body, and he stumbles backwards.

"I'm very sorry, sir! Are you okay?"

Merlin glances up at the voice, and his heart almost skips a body refuses to listen to him; all he can do is continue staring at the man, mesmerized by amazement. It was him; he's sure of it. He wasn't exactly his Arthur Pendragon, but he was at the same time. Merlin could clearly recognize Arthur's fiery passion and courage in the young man's bright blue eyes and blonde hair. Even his voice had the same deep, rugged tone to it. Merlin could almost picture this man in knight's armor, the red cape with a golden dragon emblazoned on the breast, marking him as a knight of Camelot.

"Sir?" the man asks once again, snapping the transfixed Merlin out of his vision. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, my apologies, young man. These old eyes can't see straight anymore, hehe. I'm Merlin. And you are?" Merlin replies quickly, holding out his aged hand.

The man stops for a second, his eyes wide with surprise, as if he's familiar with the name on a personal level, not from films he's seen or books he's read. For a second, the man almost looks like he recognizes Merlin, as if from a distant dream or a lost memory. For a second, Merlin's heart can't help but leap as he sees that man's face deep in thought. For a second, Merlin thinks that he might be reunited with his old friend.

But the second passes like no other, and the man just grins a beautifully familiar smile, one Merlin hasn't seen in years. "Merlin? What a coincidence! I'm Arthur," Arthur responds, taking Merlin's hand in a firm handshake. Merlin finally exhales, only just realizing he's been holding his breath in anticipation of Arthur's answer.

Of course his name is Arthur, Merlin thinks, chuckling quietly to himself. It's the first time he's even smiled at anything in a long while.

"Excuse me, did I do something hilarious?" Arthur inquires, with a slight hint of annoyance in his voice.

Merlin chuckles again. "No, no. You just remind me of a friend I once knew." He looks at Arthur, his eyes ablaze with curiosity. "I assume you're a fan of medieval history, then."

"Not really. I am familiar with a bit of Arthurian legend though. I really like King Arthur. I mean, the way he leads his kingdom with justice and how he carries himself so confidently makes him a truly inspiring hero," Arthur replies, his smile wide and almost arrogant, like he thinks he's complimenting himself.

And Merlin just can't resist the inescapable, gnawing urge. "Prat," he mutters under his breath, a snide smirk making its way through the solemnity that his elderly face wears. To be able to call Arthur that again makes him satisfied beyond belief.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Arthur says in the same exasperated tone as earlier. He could've sworn he had just heard Merlin insult him, and yet he can just barely keep a wide smile from appearing on his face.

"Oh, it's nothing important. Have a nice day, MY LORD." Merlin replies, unable to keep himself from one more joke. He even bows his head as if it were the Arthur from the past.

Arthur just stands there, extremely confused by what this crazy old man, who had only just met him, had done. He watches Merlin hobble away, but he is unable to see the broken smile still present on Merlin's aged face, refusing to remove itself.


End file.
